Thanks to a dark thunderstorm and its co-conspirator 50% custody, I got out of bed slightly later than usual this morning. Sliding the doggy co-sleeper out of the way with my foot, I made my way to the bathroom to wash the sleep away. About halfway into my shower, once I’d woken up, I glanced down and noticed a tiny gnat on the floor. I watched it for a moment, as it scrambled to avoid the pouring water.
In my former life, I was a mommy-blogger. At present, I’m more of a mommy-birder. (The first step is admitting it, but I’m already on step 5: I own that shit.) It began with my sweet cardinal, Bernadette the Brave and, a year and a half later, I pretty much have penguins in my backyard, begging for a bite. If we cross paths, you’ll likely find me with my camera.
It’s taken me ten minutes to start writing this post. Not because I don’t have any words. Because, of those, I’ve got plenty. But, because I’ve been trying to figure out how to type the backward R in Toys “R” Us. This, until I realized that Toys “R” Us doesn’t even type their own R backwards. So, feeling much less pressured, we can begin. Ahem. For those of you who.
My initial reaction upon hearing the (most recent) Arizona hate-bill was disbelief, which quickly turned into blind, foaming at the mouth rage, that had me shaking from the inside out. Due to a genetic inability to control the words that come out of my mouth, I did what I do best: yelled “ASSHOLE!” and screamed “BIGOT!” I mean, like I have the time to write another Kirk Cameron is an asshole type.
On the outside, Peck the Woodpecker looked a lot like every other woodpecker in his family. But, Peck was different, and he knew it. He wasn’t like other woodpeckers, or any other bird for that matter. Peck was afraid of heights, which seemed silly, especially for a bird. He knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but that wasn’t enough to change the way he felt on the inside..